


razor soft

by drivingnotwashing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Feminization, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon, Self-Indulgent, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28117431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drivingnotwashing/pseuds/drivingnotwashing
Summary: Sam tries really hard not to notice the type of girls his brother dates but he can’t help watching them from afar, and each time he catches a glimpse of their long, smooth legs, he finds himself lacking.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	razor soft

**Author's Note:**

> hey! im hard at work editing the tenth chapter of motel bibles but this fic idea popped into my head and wouldn’t leave me alone, so here it is! as always; if you don’t like the ship, the concept, the tags, don’t read!

Sam sees the type of girls Dean dates.

The ones with the flower pink lips and the baby doe eyes. You’d think that his brother, the bad boy who rolls into town with his leather jacket and a knife in his pocket, a sort of roadside James Dean minus the smoking, would go for the rougher kind of girls, the kind Sam likes, the ones who show their teeth when they smile and laugh with their whole body. you’d think Dean would fall for the ones with the ripped band tees, the chains and the bleeding hearts because isn’t that what he is too?

But no, he chooses the ones who are all peach soft and sweet kisses. The ones who never had to scar their hands, the ones who drop silky underwear in his back pocket to remember them by because they’re just tokens and not something expensive, something Sam has watched from afar in stores and knows far too well how much they cost.

Dean likes his girls pampered and privileged, it twists something in Sam each time he thinks about it too closely.

He’s fifteen and he’s too smart to fool himself, he knows what he’s feeling, knows the ugly word for it and he wishes he could be dumber this time, that he could stop asking questions even to himself. He’s jealous, he’s jealous of the Sandras and the Rhondas, he’s jealous because they’re all pretty and soft and plump. They smell like vanilla cream and yellow roses and Dean talks about them with a smile in his voice, they make Sam gag with hatred.

He’s jealous because he’s in love and isn’t that a kick in the guts? Sam always wanted to be normal, since the very first days of his life he could remember, he always craved that regular Joe life, the waking up at six to go school, the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches your mom made you in your backpack, the family that sits together to eat in the evening and talk about how their day had been. He’s got none of that, he wishes he could have gotten used to it but he still feels the want for it, the buzz of craving. But it’s stupid and more than that, he knows now no amount of homemade meals will buy him normalcy. Your name on a mailbox can’t fix anything, it can’t make you normal, not when in the deepest hours of the night you ache for your brother’s tongue between your thighs.

They’re in Peck Idaho this month, their Dad left fourteen days ago on a demon hunt with Pastor Jim. Sam has come to wonder, in the two weeks he’s spent here if Peck Idaho isn’t one of the circles of hell Dante has forgotten to write about. There’s nothing to do here, the books at the library are dull, the movies at the cinema are all for idiots and there’s not even a few good spots to go hike or at least sit somewhere and read for a while. Sam despises this town, this week, this entire year with his whole might.

He’s found nothing to do here, but Dean has found someone.

Her name is Layla and she might be one of the sweetest girl Sam has ever met. She’s not the most beautiful girl Dean has gone out with, she’s got crooked front teeth and a long pointy nose but she’s just as soft as the rest of them. She’s got golden skin and dark brown eyes that shine with laughter, she smiles with a hand hiding her mouth and she crosses her legs when she sits. She wears red miniskirts and cardigans, she’s the American girl country singers write lyrics about. Sam hates her and hates himself for it because she always says hello to him when she comes around and she lends him books when she knows he’ll like them. She’s too kind and she’s too pretty and Sam has been mean and ugly since he’s turned thirteen.

Dean is lucky to have her, sure he’s a catch, but he also has the emotional intelligence of an oyster and sometimes Sam will hear Layla say something dripping with affection that’s Dean will ignore to press his hands under her sweater. She deserves better and isn’t it a funny thing? Sam is in love with his brother, the heart clenching, nauseating kind of love that makes you cry when they’re not there and smile for hours when they say your name but he fully believes this girl deserves someone who will care about her as much as she does for a guy who only seems set on bending her on their kitchen counter.

It’s not surprising that after twelve days, Dean works fast, of deteriorating relationship Layla calls it quit. She says they can still be friends, but she says it to Sam and now that she’s not his brother’s girl, he finds himself missing her company. She wrote her number on his arm before leaving the night Dean and her broke up and Sam hasn’t called yet but he thinks he will.

Dean wasn’t heartbroken about the whole thing. Bothered, yes, but he seemed rather fine with getting dumped. There was no loss of dignity there, no regrets.

"I’m just in it for a bit of fun," He says. It’s been three days since Layla walked out on him and he’s already thinking of his next conquest, Sam wants to pummel him to death with the remote of the TV.

They’re watching a soap opera while eating leftovers turkey sandwiches. Usually they try to rent movies so they’re not stuck with whatever happens to be playing but, once again, there’s nothing to do in Peck Idaho and apparently that means Sam has to watch this thirty something woman seduce her boss and her sister’s husband for two and a half hour.

"I told Layla that, it’s not my fault she got attached."

"Huh huh," Sam’s not going to fall into this conversation again. He’s said multiple times what he thinks about Dean’s dating habits which is: not his business and he doesn’t want to know. But Dean pushes, he always does.

"She wanted me to meet her parents, she told them about me only like three days after we met!"

Sam fakes shock and lets Dean ramble, on screen the woman has now been discovered as a serial adulterer and she needs to make a choose between the men she’s been dating. Sam bets she’s going to choose the dark and brooding baker who doesn’t have a dollar to his name but who makes her laugh. It’s who he’d choose at least.

"Well, maybe that now she’s free you can get your rocks off, hey?"

That does make Sam actually focus on the conversation, he looks back at Dean and frowns.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Dean shrugs but Sam can see a hint of tension in his brother’s movements. "It just seemed like you two could hit it off. She’s a bit too old for you but-"

"She’s your age."

Dean snorts, "Yeah, well, _I’m_ a bit too old for you, dork."

It’s a joke, it’s said as a joke and of course it’s a fucking joke because Dean is his brother and he would never think of Sam this way and yet something twists inside of him and he feels bile on the back of his tongue.

"I’m not interested in Layla." He whispers, trying to hide the fear and pain that have lodged in his throat.

"I wouldn’t care if you were, okay? I know there’s that saying-"

"Dean!" He turns fully towards his brother, grabbing Dean’s wrist and forcing him to just listen, "I’m not interested in Layla. I don’t want to date or kiss or _fuck_ Layla. She’s a nice girl and I think she and I could be friends. That’s it."

Dean blinks, his eyelashes are so long they kiss the soft skin under his eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a while, on the screen, the woman has decided to get herself a new outfit to go make her final declaration, Sam thinks the blue dress she decided on doesn’t suit her complexion.

"Alright, but, Sammy, if you were interested in Layla or in anyone," Dean licks his lips, Sam can’t helps but watch, "You’d tell me, right?"

Sam’s heart almost leaps out of his mouth. It beats so hard, it feels like it’s trying to cut itself out of Sam’s body to throw its bloody form on Dean’s lap. It’s his to cradle and crush, yes, but Sam needs it right where it is.

"Yeah, Dean, of course."

The lie is a bad one, he hasn’t fooled his brother, but he can’t say the truth and he can’t make up another one. They stay like this, watching the end of the movie, close but not touching, Sam’s last words floating between them like an accusation. On screen, the woman is in her shower, this is a racy movie because they can see her nipples, she’s shaving her legs and putting lotion on her tan skin.

"Damn, I love that." Dean groans, breaking the silence and making Sam’s blood run south.

"Love what?"

Dean stares back at him, a sly smile on the corner of his bitten red lips. "When they shave their legs, dude, and it’s all soft against you, it’s just, so good."

It’s more than Sam has ever wanted to know. He’s seen them, the girls, he’s seen them in various states of undress and so he knows logistically that they shave their legs and don’t wear their bras to bed but he didn’t want to know how much Dean loves the feel of a woman’s body under his. He already doesn’t have much to feed his fantasies, if Dean starts openly talking about the girls, Sam isn’t entirely sure he’ll survive this year. 

"Why?" He asks instead because apparently he’s a glutton for punishment and he needs to know as much as he fears to.

"Why what?"

"I told you, it’s all smooth and shit."

"Hair isn’t that rough though, does it change it that much?"

Dean scratches the top of his head, thinking, "I guess not, but it’s what’s around it, you know?"

Sam shakes his head.

"It’s the fact that they do it for you." Dean explains, "They shave their legs and they wear cute shit and it’s all for you, it feels good."

Sam frowns, he does a lot of frowning when Dean talked about girls. "Maybe they do it for themselves first? Why would it be for you?"

The woman of the movie has chosen the dark and brooding baker, Sam finds them genuinely kind of sweet together.

"I guess I always just kinda assumed they did it for me, but you’re probably right. Still, I like to believe they get all pretty because they know I’m coming," Dean’s smile is hungry, Sam feels himself salivate. They don’t really talk more after that, but at night he hears Dean moan in his sleep and he knows, with a morbid knowledge, that his brother will wake up earlier in the morning to jerk off and spill on the tiles of their shower.

The moment lives in his mind for at least five days before it comes back to haunt him at it’s full capacity. Their Dad said he’d be back by the end of this week but the hunt is dragging on and they’re almost out of money. Sam has proposed to call Bobby Singer, just to ask for a few dollars, just enough to buy some bread and maybe some cheese. Dean is adamant that they find something else, they can’t betray Dad and ask help to someone he’s fighting with and blah blah blah. Sam wants an easy and safe solution, one that won’t put Dean in a dive bar at 3 am so he can scam drunks out of just enough money for a club sandwich.

They start fighting for no reason, Sam’s not sure who starts it, it might be him, but one minute he’s talking to Dean and the other he’s screaming at his brother and Dean is gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. After ten minutes of mindless shouting, Dean storms out and Sam stands alone in the living room of their motel apartment. 

He thinks about getting blackout drunk for one second, he knows there’s a few bottle of Jack under the sink with the medical kit, but instead he goes to the bathroom and washes his face with icy water and hand soap.

When he opens his eyes, a razor stares right back at him from the corner of the sink. It’s not an electric razor, it’s just that throwable type Dean buys at Walmart to get rid of his stubble one every three days.

Sam’s fingers find the handle of the thing before he can stop himself. He’s not gonna do anything, of course not, but he does slide off the cap, he does get naked, stand in the tub, lather his legs in shower gel and start shaving.

It’s stupid, it might actually be the most idiotic thing Sam has ever done but he doesn’t stop and he shaves quickly and roughly, not letting himself think about it. At one point he closes his eyes and only reopens them when he starts the water and lets it wash away the soap that remains and the hairs that stuck to the side of the tub.

The water under him his pink, he doesn’t get why until he sees the mess of ripped skin he’s made around his ankles. He didn’t feel it, not even a sting of pain, but he’s got cuts in every nooks and crannies of his legs and knees. It’s not smooth, it’s not pretty, it’s bleeding and it makes him cry like a baby.

He can’t even be normal in his anomaly. He couldn’t even shave correctly.

He doesn’t hear the front door open, nor does he hear the bathroom door open. All he knows is that one minute he’s crying in the bathtub, holding his legs close to him and watching his blood drop in perfect circles on ivory white and the next, Dean is wrapping a thick towel around his shoulders and lifting him out of the room and onto his bed.

"Sammy, Sammy-boy what did you do?"

He’s still shaking, still crying. Dean is too kind with him, Sam can’t even do the most stupid shit.

“Sammy, c’mon, talk to me here."

Dean is holding him close, Sam breathes in the scent of sweat, leather and gun oil that makes his brother. There’s a soothing hand making circle so on his back, he stops sobbing just long enough to talk.

"I wanted to do it for you, to make you happy!" Another cry makes him quiver, Dean gets his left hand on the back of his neck and hugs him even tighter.

"Sammy, I don’t understand, why did you do that?"

This might be one of the most humiliating moment of Sam’s life and it’s saying something because he peed his pants while hunting a chupacabra once.

"I wanted to be pretty," He murmurs in the crook of Dean’s neck, "I wanted to be soft for you."

Dean inhales sharply, Sam can still feel blood pool a his ankles.

"Sammy... you’re always pretty for me, baby brother." Dean whispers and there’s something there, an edge Sam hasn’t heard directed at him before. "You’re so pretty, so cute." Dean kisses the bridge of his nose, Sam feels himself start to hyperventilate. "You’re my baby brother, my baby, my Sammy."

"Dee-"

Dean pushes him back, Sam’s naked back hits the pillows, one to Dean’s hands snake around Sam’s knobby knees and gets higher and higher, a finger gracing the tender flesh of his inner thighs.

"I like all of this, Sammy," A nail traces a red like, Sam shivers, "I like it soft, I like it rough, I like it however you give it to me because it’s you. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s you."

If Sam could, he’d have pinched himself just then. Dean gets closer, their noses touch, his breath is on Sam’s lips. 

"Sammy," The green of Dean’s eyes is intoxicating, "Sammy, show me what you want."

And Sam, because he’s never been one to disappoint, especially not his big brother when he looks at him like that, like Sam is his entire world, does.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are dearly appreciated! and for more of my writing, you can find me on my [tumblr!](https://itstartswithbloodshed.tumblr.com/)  
> -dnw


End file.
